Fish and Chips Gone Wrong: A Funny Sherlolly Tease
by wibblywobblytimeywimey45
Summary: When Lestrade invites everyone for fish and chips before John and Mary's wedding, Anderson takes the initiative to explain the window-crash-coat-flip-hair-ruffle-kiss featured in The Empty Hearse to everyone...ESPECIALLY Sherlock and Molly. ***TEH SPOILERS*** Credits to BBC.


**(A/N: Yes, I am aware that Sherlock's reaction was incredibly out of character, but, let's face it, it was damn fun to write xD Sorry, I promise I'll write an "in character" Sherlock next time x'D)**

Sherlock Holmes stretched his body out in his chair and sighed, still in his robe, having just woken up a few minutes ago. The sun gleamed through the window behind him and warmed the back of his neck. This particular morning would have been one of the few immaculate times in which Sherlock could escape to his Mind Palace undisturbed-if it wasn't for the soon-to-be-husband chattering away on the telephone, becoming increasingly more annoying by the millisecond.

Sherlock rubbed his temples. "John, will you shut up?"

John glared at him and put a finger to his lips, then continued with the phone call.

"Oh, how ironic," the detective muttered.

Although desperately trying to submerge himself in his thoughts, he still caught a few tidbits of the conversation between John and Lestrade:

-"Yes, the wedding is at four."

-"Oh, so that's what you got Mary? She'll love it!"

-"Nine O' Clock? Yeah, that sounds fine. We'll see you there! Bye."

John placed the phone back on the countertop and nervously hobbled (It was his wedding day, after all) to the living room.

Sherlock stood up and proceeded to slump to his bedroom to get dressed.

"Uh, Sherlock?" said John, neglected.

"Yes, I know, Lestrade's invited all of our 'friends' from work for fish and chips. I know."

"You heard?"

"I deduced."

"Of course you did."

In an hour's time Sherlock and everyone else he and John were acquaintances with were sitting around a table with a rather large portion of food in front of them.

"Now tell me again, Lestrade, and I want the right answer," Sherlock irritably ran his fingers through his curls. "Why on Earth are Anderson and Donovan here?"

Lestrade shifted in his chair. "We know them from work."

"You said you were inviting friends."

"They're friends, aren't they?"

"What, a woman who thinks I'm a fraud and a man who went obsessively crazy thinking up theories on how I faked my death?"

John leaned forward to intervene. "Alright, girls, calm down."

The whole table had went silent until a small voice spoke up from behind them.

"Sorry I'm late, traffic was hell."

Molly Hooper approached her co-workers and sat down in the only empty chair left at the table; the one next to Sherlock.

Sherlock was suddenly very aware of how close she was to him-their thighs were touching, and it almost made his heart speed up the slightest bit. He mentally scolded himself for briefly experiencing sentiment, and faced Molly as she spoke.

"You said something about Anderson coming up with theories…what theories? And please don't stare at me like I'm stupid because I'm probably the only one who doesn't know."

Mary slightly raised two fingers. "You're not the only one."

Lestrade sighed and gestured across the table to Anderson. "I'll let you explain."

Donovan coughed. "Oh Lord. Here we go."

Anderson mildly took offense. "Oi. Shut up."

Sally raised her palms in surrender as Anderson continued with his explanation.

"Okay, so for this theory, there were three things needed: A bungee cord, Darren Brown, and Moriarty's body."

Sherlock abruptly sat forward in his chair; he hadn't heard this one. The edge of his trousers brushed against Molly's skin and he noticed her snap to attention in the corner of his eyesight.

Anderson noticed his slight peak in interest. "What, I didn't tell you this one?"

"Yeah, I haven't heard this one either," John chimed in.

Lestrade clapped his hands together and laughed. "Oh, Sherlock, you and Molly are going to love this one."

The comment earned him some suspicious looks from John and Mary and a slight blush from Molly. He suddenly didn't want to know what Anderson had strategized, but a quick glance at Molly's interested expression kept him in his seat.

"So, as I was saying, the body that was supposedly Sherlock's wasn't actually his. It was Moriarty's body with a Sherlock mask on!"

"Impossible. One: The mask could have fallen off. Two: We couldn't have known that Moriarty was going to kill himself, and three: I think everyone at this table agrees that having my face on my enemy's dead body is extremely disturbing."

Anderson perked up and his mischievous smile was wiped off of his face. "Shut up and let me explain."

John scowled at Sherlock from across the room. "Just let him talk."

"Fine." Sherlock crossed his arms like a pouting child and rolled his eyes, but overall listened to what Anderson had to say.

His respect for the obsessive man lessened by the second-he was just so blatantly _idiotic_. That beard of his didn't do any justice but worsened the condition of Sherlock's hatred.

He gently tapped Molly's foot underneath the table. Startled, she looked up at Sherlock questioningly.

"What?" she whispered.

"This is atrocious. We should just go get our own fish and chips."  
Her eyes widened a bit, but then relaxed. "With Mary and John as well?"

"No."

He barely registered her reaction before Lestrade was snapping his fingers in their faces.

"Oi! You two! He's just getting to the best part!"

Sherlock huffed out an annoyed breath as Anderson continued.

"So after Sherlock jumps off the building with the bungee cord attached, he falls until the cord retracts, pulling him upward, toward the hospital."

Sherlock was very tempted to grab Molly and leave.

"So then he crashes into the window, and Molly is on the other side."

_Definitely going to leave, _he thought.

"Then, after the glass shatters, revealing a very shocked Molly, Sherlock approaches her."

_Leaving in three….two….one…._

He was just about to exit when Anderson spat out the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

"And he flips his coat collar, ruffles his hair, and then passionately kisses the hell out of her."

Molly blushed furiously and spit her lemonade all over the table. John's eyes widened as he started to smirk and exchange glances with Mary, who was also smirking. Donovan, Lestrade, and Anderson burst out laughing. Sherlock, however, stood up in a flash and knocked his chair over.

"WHAT—" he sputtered, red blossoming on his cheekbones. "THAT'S NOT—WHY WOULD YOU—"

Donovan burst into another fit of laughter. "OH MY GOD! LOOK! SHERLOCK HOLMES IS BLUSHING!"

Sherlock looked over at John and Mary as a last resort, but to no avail. Both Mary and John's faces were stained scarlet from laughter, and this scene didn't seem like it would end anytime soon.

He looked down at Molly, who looked as if she was about to cry, and pulled both her and her red face out of the chair. Sherlock began to escort her out, but she protested.

"Wait," she said. She turned to Anderson. "Why in the HELL were you imagining this?"

"'Cause, let's face it," he turned to Lestrade, who gave him a high five. "The Sherlolly ship is sailing."

"Oh, great, they've even got a name for our imaginary pairing," Sherlock stated. "We'll be going now, you should all GO TO HELL." He put an arm around Molly, who began to sob, humiliated. They exited the restaurant and walked down the sidewalk to Molly's apartment.

Most of his reaction, he realized, was just because they had hurt Molly. But even though she was completely horrified, from time to time, when Sherlock was alone, he'd go to his Mind Palace to fantasize about shattering a window at Bart's Hospital.


End file.
